Into the Night
by spicea11347
Summary: A young girl is forced to live with her Uncle, a man she's never met, and already hates him. What will happen when she mets a certain Dark Lord? Will she cower in fear, or stand up? Is she brave, or just stupid? OC/Gregory
1. Confused yet? Lost? Need help?

**Hey everyone! Now, if you're a fan of my other work, one thank you XD and two sorry for the unexpeceted hiatus. A few months ago, my old desktop (yes, I know, I'm behind on the times XD ) died on me. I have yet had the chance to recover everything on it - a.k.a. my stories. If that wasn't bad enough, I've had major writting block. But, I think it's going away... For good I hope.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Little Vampire, all rights go to... New Line Home Entertainment? That sound right? Oh well, it's not mine, that's all I need to say. I only own my character, whose name is undetermined at the moment...**

**Without further aidue, I introduce to you my new story, dedicated to all those lovers of the Little Vampire, and the sexy teenage vampier in it.**

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_Chapter 1: Confused yet? Lost? Need help?_

_How in the world am I related to this man? I scoffed at that idea. He is no man. Nothing close. He is a worthless piece of shit. He is insane as well. And sadly he is my Uncle. When I first found this out I couldn't believe it – still don't in fact. My mom and him are nothing alike. My mom was a respected woman and was kind and caring. She was beautiful and smart. She was everything I wanted to grow up to be. My Uncle, on the other hand, was a dirty slime bag. Dirt was caked on his entire body. He was uneducated and his grammar was atrocious. _

_I can't be related to him. I just can't. And neither can my mom. But sadly, we can't pick our family. If so, I would be Angelina Jolie's sister. But I'm getting off track, aren't I? And you're probably horribly confused right about now, right? Why do I keep asking you questions? It's not like you can respond. You're just reading what I'm leaving behind, right? Opps, there I go again. _

_What were we talking about again? Ah yes, family. No matter how much I deteste this idea, an idea thought up by stupid, greedy, assholes – who we normally call lawyers and the sort – I can't do anything about it. Maybe, a little background information will be helpful._

_**June 23**__**rd**__**, 2010**_

A normal day. That's how it started out. Like any other summer day. My mother and I were enjoying the warm sun that shone brightly above us. We were sprawled out on our wooden deck in only bikinis. Unlike other teenage girls my age, I was not ashamed, or embarrassed to see my mom in a bikini. She had a lean body. She didn't look her age. Only a few wrinkles had set in, and her brown hair that reached her shoulders, showed no sign of gray. Then again, she could be dying her hair. Oh well. There we were, enjoying sun bathing when a loud, and annoying ring went off. It was my mom's cell phone. I knew what that mean. We wouldn't be enjoying the rest of the day together.

My mom, Christiana, was an on-call registered emergency nurse. The two of us shared a sigh as I watched her sit up and look at me. A disappointed look crossed her face, and I assumed a very similar one was whipped on my own face. Looking away, my mom stood up and walked inside so she could change. I decided then to go inside as well. Act like a true teenager I suppose. Lounge about, eat chips, and watch T.V., not hang out with my mom. Pfft. Who was I kidding? I loved hanging with my mom, even if she was crazy, in the goofy weird way.

My mom came back down stairs in her scrubs and gave me a hug, "I'll see you later sweetie. Lock up, don't talk to strangers, you know the routine," she finished with a small smile as she placed her pager in the waist line of her pants.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I will. See you later, have fun at work" I waved to her retreating form as she walked out of our house.

I didn't know it then, but my mom would never get to work. And I would never have a fun day with her again. I would never see her again. For she had died that day. At 3:17 pm. An impatient driver ran a red stop light and plowed square into my moms three-door Ford Focus. A textbook T-bone accident. When paramedics arrived she was pronounced dead at the scene. The driver of the car that killed my mother only had a concussion and a few scratches and bruises.

I was now alone in the world. I never had a father, but that's okay, I grew up fine without him. But what about now? A foster home? Well apparently not. My mom had a brother. A brother she failed to tell me about. He lived in Scotland and after a few weeks of contact he has agreed to take me in.

With that set in stone, I had packed my things while only leaving out a black dress and a change of clothes for after the funeral. The funeral was very odd for me. I was the only family member there. The rest of the men and women clad in black were either friends or colleagues of Christiana. But as odd as it was, it was a nice and beautiful service. Many of the women came up to me, patted me on the back, and gave me their condolences.

At the end of the ceremony, after all my tears had been spent, I walked away from my mother's final resting spot and over to a black SUV. A tall, dark skinned woman with her hands clasped together hanging just below her stomach, stood waiting for me. I knew who she was. She was a child service worker – Diana, I think her name was – she was going to take me to my house and then to the airport. The ride to my house isn't really anything to talk about. No words were exchanged between me and the older woman. I spent the entire ride with my elbow propped on the window sill, chin in hand, staring out to the world. Everything was a blur, but somehow it brought me a form of stability. I can't explain that feeling though, so don't ask me to.

When I arrived at my house, for the last time – why is it those simple words can pain the heart more so then anything? But saying it in a different manner takes away the pain? I believe it is because adding 'last' to anything makes it so final, so definite – I numbly got out of the car. I vaguely remember the woman saying she would be waiting outside. Paying no mind to her, I walked through the front door, and it felt, even if only for a moment, that nothing had changed. That my mom would pop out from around the corner, some form of food on her cheek and ask if I was ready for dinner, or how my day was. But, as a few minutes passed, with me standing with my back to the now closed front door, and no other movement, I realized that everything had changed. It would never be the same.

I breathed in deeply through my nose, holding back the tears the best I could, standing up tall with my chin held high, I quickly made my way up the stairs of our, my, no one's house towards what used to be my room. Opening the white painted door, I revealed a bleak and boxed up room. At one point in time a twin sized bed sat in the middle adorned in blue sheets and a matching comforter, off to the far right corner was a glass and black metal desk and shelf combo that held by printer and laptop, on the right wall, a dresser that reached an inch below my shoulder packed to the brim with clothes in a hap-hazard manner, and a vanity on the left wall with various little knick knacks stacked up high. Now, the bed was stripped, leaving only the mattress, the desk was bare, the dresser was empty, and the vanity was clear. It was no longer my room.

The only things that seemed out of place now were the suitcases and what not on the floor, and a change of clothes on the mattress. I quickly changed, not wanting to miss my flight, even though I was in no mood to move to Scotland. Dusting off the clothes once they adorned my body, I checked myself in the mirror on the vanity – like old times. I sported a pair of old jeans, holes in the knees, and various things written on them. Blame my friends. A red camisole could be seen under and dark purple and black plaid, button down shirt with a few hints of red in the shirt. On my feet, was nothing special, just a pair of DC's whose name I couldn't remember. Sighing once more, I shoved the black dress into my carry on bag, and pulled on my leather jacket. It was a wonderfully, beautiful jacket my mom had picked out for a theme for my class' homecoming theme during spirit week. It was music, and my class had Rock n' Roll.

I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind and slung my carry on bag on top of one of the suitcases, the strap wrapped around the handle; this prevented the thing from falling off. Picking up a case on the ground – it too had a strap – I slung that over my shoulder. It was my tenor saxophone case and I was not going to place it on top of anything like a suitcase while it was in motion, or even while it wasn't. Each of my hands wrapped around a suitcase and I rolled them out of my room. I turned around and looked at everything for the last time. As though I was in some movie, I could see old memories play out in front of me. Most were with my mom. This brought a sad smile to my face, before I turned around and closed the door.

Managing, miraculously, to get down the steps with so much luggage, I rolled them to the front entrance. I opened the front door and I could see the woman still there, in her black SUV, still at the wheel. I glanced over my shoulder before I closed the front door. I let a tear roll down my cheek, and then another. So many memories. I was leaving them all. I know you might argue that they will always be with me, and I agree, but the house itself held so many. It was my home. No matter where I go, it will always be that to me.

"Goodbye mom," I remember murmuring, as I closed the door before walking over to the SUV to load all my stuff and prepare for the relatively short ride to the airport.

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**Okay, I know, short chapter. But I needed to get it out there. It seemed like the right spot to end it anyway. I wonder if anyone knows who her Uncle is... any guesses? But, as always, please _REVIEW_. I also want to know if I should continue this story in first person or third person. I knew for certain I was going to write the first chapter in first person, but not after that. Oh well, working on chapter two anyway. _REVIEW!_**


	2. I'm Too Young to be an Adult

**Hey everyone! I told you I was working on chapter two and here it is! I do hope you enjoy, and I'm sorry if it moves a little slow, it will - hopefully - speed up in either the next chapter or the forth one.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Little Vampire or any of the characters in it, I only own Rebekah Nyx Nightingale (yes she has a name now)**

_Chapter 2: I'm Too Young to be an Adult_

The plane ride across the Atlantic was fourteen hours of nothingness. I didn't move except to go to the restroom or when I did it subconsciously in my sleep. It was boring and I could have done without it. Everything was a blur and all the events meshed together. In my sixteen years – well almost sixteen years – of life, it was only a speck, the size of the tip of a sharpened pencil. The only thing I truly remember is how anxious I was about a letter my mom had written to me years ago and had secured away in a safety deposit box. The child service woman had given it to me right before I boarded the plane, and I placed it into my carry on.

When the plane had landed and the stewardess announced we were in Glasgow, and how we should enjoy our time, I almost laughed. How in the world was I supposed to enjoy my time here? Yes, I've always wanted to travel, and I have heard how beautiful Scotland is, but I never wanted to see it due to my current situation. With awkward movements, I managed to get out of my seat – trying not to get in anyone else's way as everyone stood up at once – and get to the overhead compartment above me. I pulled out my bag, a tie-dyed shoulder bag. All my suitcases had been tie-dyed for the very reason of traveling. It made my things so much easier to find if they were so unique.

With my bag slung over my body, I pushed and shoved, and was pushed and shoved back, towards the exit. A stewardess meets me at the door and smiles such a fake smile I had to give her a small one in return. A sad one. One that showed just how much I felt sorry for someone having a job where they have to smile no matter what. I continued on pass her and out of the plane.

I went pass everyone meeting with loved ones and family. I knew my Uncle wasn't going to be waiting in the terminal, he had told me this when we were last in contact. He would be outside. He said it was hard to miss him. That thought alone unnerved me. What did he look like? Actually, I don't want to think about that. I pushed all of those thoughts to the back of my mind as I went to claim my bags. Like I had stated previously, my luggage was the easiest to find, even my black tenor saxophone case. My luggage for its unique color and my saxophone for being that looked like a case.

Gathering up my things, I replaced my shoulder bag with my case and let it swing by my hip. The carry on bag was placed on top of one of the suitcases in a way so it wouldn't fall – hopefully. I started to wheel my things to the exit. Which, by the way, took quite a decent amount to find. I always got lost in big places. Airports were always bad. I thought Lambert back in St. Louis was bad. But, once I had found the exit, I walked outside and I realized what he meant. He was hard to miss. He stood outside of his truck – which itself got a lot of attention, a dull, rusty red, with VampKill on the side, and thousands of lights and other things – propped up against the passenger door. He was a scruffy man who easily looked forty or so. He had black hair that looked like it hadn't seen a comb in some number of years. It seemed as though he used to be pale at one point in time, but due to sun exposure, he had developed a tan. It wasn't like mine though. Thankfully. He obviously didn't care much about hygiene. He wore black pants, some black shirt, a leather jacket, and black boots. He had a small hoop earring in his left ear and a cigar between his lips. Great, I'm living with an avid smoker.

Grudgingly, I made my over to him, with my head held high. Though I didn't like this at all, I walked with dignity. It was something my mom taught me. I remember her words so clearly, _'Even if you are walking through manure, keep your chin up, everyone will see a queen.'_ I stood before him as he let out a puff of smoke, which ended up hitting me in the face. I swatted away as much of it as I could and glared up at the man.

"Ah, so you must be Christiana's daughter, eh?" he asked in his thick Scottish accent – I realized that I'm going to have a hard time understanding anyone in this country, I barely understood people in my own country.

My eyes narrowed somewhat, "The name's Rebekah. You must be Rookery," I stated, so he could know, right then and there, how much I hated him.

He didn't seem to have a problem with me hating him all he did was smirk, "Yeah. Put your stuff in the trunk lassie."

My left eye began to twitch slightly at that term – lassie. I feel like a dog now. I 'hmpfed' and rolled my things to the back. I lifted up my first suitcase with some difficulty, but I managed to get it into the trunk, Along with the second one and my carry on. I took my saxophone and placed it in the back of his truck, which looked like he slept on every night. That begged the question, where the hell am I sleeping? I decided not to ask. I didn't really want to know.

Opening up the passenger side door, I raised an eyebrow at the dashboard of his truck. What in the world? Again, I wasn't going to ask, but I knew it had something to do with the VampKill sign on the side of the door. Vampire? Killing Vampires? This guy is worse than teenage girls in America reading Twilight and gushing over the vampires. I have read it, and hated it. Vampires', for one, are not supposed to sparkle in the sunlight. Those are fairies my friend. Vampires can't stand the sunlight. But, getting back to the topic at hand, this was a grown man who believed in vampires. Apparently, whole heartedly. My opinion on him now is that he's in insane, sick in the head, and needs help.

The ride to his house – I'm going to hope it's one – was short and quiet. I spent my time staring out the window at the beauty of Scotland, but not really seeing it. It's hard to explain. I saw it, yes, I'm not blind, but I didn't feel anything for it. I didn't feel like it was anything. Again, it's hard to explain.

When Rookery stopped the truck, I hopped out quickly and gathered my stuff as fast as I could. As I pulled my second suitcase out of the trunk, I looked around. We were somewhere in the woods, but I could still see lights from the town, so I assumed we were only on the edge of these woods. The house in front of me – and yes it was a house – looked very old and worn down. Ivy crawled up the sides of the house and bushes covered the land in front of the first floor windows. Weeds were everywhere. Without a word to Rookery, I wheeled my things towards the front door. I turned the door knob, resulting in a creak to come forth, I pushed open the door. Another creak was heard, a long and drawn out one. The sun light from behind me flooded the house and a frown instantly found its rightful spot on my face.

The inside was just as bad as the outside, if not worse. Everything was covered in dust, and as I rubbed my index finger along a table to my left, I realized it was a very think layer of dust. It's probably been collecting for years. The floors, all wooden, were warped in some places, which would prove hazardous to anyone walking around barefoot. Paint was peeling from the walls; the colors might have once looked lovely. I imagined that there would probably be insects and spiders around as well. Fuuuuun. I just _love_ spiders. Note my sarcasm.

"This be me mum and da's home way back when," I could tell it was way back when moron, "Now, Rebekah, I won't be here. That alright with you lassie?" he asked me as he put his dirt covered hand on my shoulder.

I shied out from under his touch, dipping my shoulder and stepping to the left slightly, seeing as how he was one my right, "I'll be just fine."

With that I heard something metallic being placed on the table next to me and then he was gone. A slam of the old wooden door told me that much. Now, you may be thinking, a whole house to myself? Awesome! But it's really not. I need someone to talk to, someone to be with, but not him. He doesn't seem to have a sensitive bone in his body. Looking as to what was the metallic thing he placed on the table; I turned my head and saw a key. Great, now I can lock up. Sighing, I started dragging my things upstairs, looking for a halfway decent room. I opened door after door, until I reached the last door.

"Please let it be nice," I whispered to whatever God was up there, hoping he wasn't going to mock me by making it worse than the others.

Opening it, I was met with a welcomed surprise. Though the room was covered in dust like the rest of the house, everything else seems to have been left untouched, by both Mother Nature and man, since its prime. The room was painted a nice, rich, brown color. Curtains hung over the two windows on the far side of a room and they were a soft, sky blue with small, erratically placed, strips of brown. The same sky blue was on a rug at the foot of what appeared to be a twin sized bed. The bed sheets and comforter were adorned in the same colors. I thought about it for awhile. This had to be my mom's old room. It just seemed to fit her. Knowing I was going to be staying in my mom's old room somehow made me feel like I was connected to her. There was a set of drawers that reached my waist with a mirror to my right, and another dresser about a foot or so shorter than me to my left. A desk was pushed off into the right corner, along the wall with the door. The bed itself was placed in between the two windows on the far wall.

I placed my stuff down on the rug and closed the door. I walked over to the bed and pulled back the comforter and examined the sheets. They didn't seem to be ridden with bugs, but I wasn't going to take any chances. I was going to have to wash them. I thought about that small little chore. Thinking back to everything, all the dirt and grime, around the house, I was going to have to clean the whole thing. But who knows how long that could take.

"Eh, I'll just clean my room, kitchen, bathrooms, and living room, wherever that is," I decided, though it still seemed like the whole house once I finished listing.

I thought it would be better that I got started on that. Stripping the bed, I took the sheets and made my way back down the stairs to try and find a washer. After a bit of wandering, I found one. And it was about twenty years old. Mumbling a small pray about not having the washer break down on me, I tossed in the sheets and realized something. There was no Tide or Bleach, or anything. If Rookery hasn't lived here in years, then there was no food. No toiletries. No anything.

I groaned as I turned my back to the washer. One hand gripped to the side of the ancient appliance, as my other pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. I was going to have to go out and buy everything. I had the money – for the time being – to buy everything I need, because my mom left me everything she had and more, but I didn't want to spend it all in the first week.

Then it hit me. Even if I were to go out and buy groceries, toiletries, and what not, I had no way of getting it home. I had no car. Again I groaned and clamped my eyes shut. I guess this is what an adult feels like when they are thrust into the world of getting everything they need with no help.

"Mom, I need help," I whispered as I let a stray tear find its way down my cheek and to my chin.

**Well there it is everyone. Hope you enjoyed. I know it was short, well its longer than my first chapter, but anyway. Please, like always, REVIEW! I hope to hear from you. I'll be starting my third chapter shortly, but it more than likely won't be until the forth chapter - or the end of the third if you're lucky - that any mention of the characters of the movie are there.**

**Special Thanks for reviewing go to:**

**Vic90 - I totally know what you mean. I was hoping that I would stray away from that path, take the road less traveled, XD Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you enjoy the second chapter.**


	3. I Live in the TwentyFirst Century

**Hey everyone! Here it is! Chapter three! three chapters in what, five days? This is a great way to make a come back after a major writing block. Hope you all enjoy. It's gonna be slow and boring this chapter, but it picks up in the next chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the little vampire. All I own is Rebekah, and her friends.**

_Chapter 3: I live in the Twenty-First Century_

Somewhere between my sadness and my thoughts, I had dropped to the floor and sat with my back to the washer. My knees were brought up to my chest and my arms draped over them, with my head dipped down. What was I supposed to do? My thoughts raced with ideas as I tried to push the sadness into the deepest, darkest crevices of my mind. I couldn't worry about my turbulent emotions; there would be other times to focus on them. But now, I have to worry about surviving, getting food, and my safety. A small laugh escaped my lips, a dry, almost humorless laugh. I was working from the bottom up to fulfill Maslow's hierarchy of needs. It feels like it was so long when I learned what that was – a diagram represented by a pyramid, describing how we start with basic needs, our safety, belonging, self-esteem, then self-actualization – when in truth, it was during my second semester last year.

Suddenly, an idea hit me. I live in the twenty-first century. There has to be another way of getting food to my house without going to a store. Using my left hand to balance myself on the floor, my right pushed off my knee and threw me into momentum. I stood up quickly and rushed upstairs. Throwing open the door to my new room, I fell on my knees in front of my carry on bag. I quickly unzipped it and began tossing, or placing, things. There, at the bottom of my bag, was my laptop. I smiled brightly and pulled it out of the bag and opened up the lid. I pressed the power button as I sat down on the blue rug with my legs crossed and my deep red laptop resting in my lap. The HP logo popped up as it started to load all my previous settings.

Popping up was my screen saver, which was a picture of me and some of best friends. I absolutely loved this picture. We had gone camping when the picture was taken. I was sitting on a rock overlooking a small lake with a stream that flowed into it. I was with one of my friends who was sitting behind me. She had been braiding my hair beforehand; she had covered my whole head with braids. But at the moment she was laughing and pointing towards the water, my own head was thrown back as I laughed as well. Five girls were on a rock, striking the Little Mermaid pose – you know the one where she's propped up on a rock out at sea, pushing up her upper body – and they had on these goofy faces. But that's not what we had been laughing at; we were pointing at two girls sneaking up on the others. These were my friends. Haley, Kathy, Karen, Teresa, Jackie, Vanessa, Morgen, and Vicky.

I sighed as I stared at the picture for another moment. I missed them already; I hadn't seen them in awhile, a few weeks. They had insisted on going to the funeral, so they could be there for me and though that was sweet, I didn't want that. I just would have cried more than I already did and not want to leave more so than I did. It was easier. If they were there the child service woman would've had to take me kicking and screaming, and my friends would not stand for that.

I whipped away a stray tear before it could leave a mark down my cheek as I quickly opened up Internet Explorer. The first site I went to was Amazon. They had everything. I moved my cursor to the drop down menu asking me what department I would like to search under. My blue-gray eyes scrolled the list and my face deadpanned. On the list, the eight one down after 'All Departments', was 'Grocery & Gourmet Food'. After all that freaking out, I didn't have to worry. An echoing _SMACK_ was sounded through out the room as my olive skinned hand found my forehead in a forceful manner, and dragged down my face.

I should have known I could order food and have it delivered to my house, but I guess reasoning doesn't really work when you're fighting off billows of emotions. Sighing, I began to add things to my chart, but in a wise way. I examined the prices of various items, and then looked to see how much was included. I made as many good deals as I could. Once I was finished selecting different foods, towels, soaps, shampoo, conditioner, Cheer, and various things for work and whatnot, I went to check out. The bill was astronomical in my opinion, but it was to be expected. This house had nothing and needed everything. I leaned over to my carry on once more and pulled out my wallet; it was black and blue and it was duct tape. Opening it up, I pulled out a Master card. I typed in the number and clicked to continue. When I checked the information before I confirmed the order, I gasped as I saw the address. It was my old address. I quickly averted myself to the correct page to change that information, but I couldn't exactly do that. I had no idea where I lived.

Groaning, I moved the computer off my lap and stood up. I wandered down stairs and towards the kitchen. I started to open up various drawers and cabinets, hoping I would find something – anything – that would help me figure out where I am. I remember when we had pulled up, I saw a mailbox, but the numbers on it worn down and unreadable, but that was it. I opened up one drawer and a wave of dust floated into the air. I coughed, closed my eyes, and swatted it away from my face. Opening an eye and then the other, I peered into the drawer. There was a piece of paper on top. An envelope with a nice coating of dust. I pulled it out; the envelope had been ripped open long ago, yet it was still in the drawer. Holding it in my left hand, my right dragged across it in order to remove the dust. The letter had been addressed to my mom. Raising a curious eyebrow, I dusted away the top left corner. It was a college, Washington University in St. Louis. It was a college letter of acceptance. I smiled, but returned to the task at hand. Address. I read the address that was neatly printed in the middle of the white envelope. _8926 Clear Meadow Dr. _

I raised an eyebrow at the address, but shrugged my shoulders and took the envelope up with me to my new room. Returning to my laptop, I quickly typed in the address and confirmed the order. I knew from experience that it would take roughly three days for it to get here. So, until then, I would be stuck with finding cheap places and going out to eat. Sighing once more, I leaned my back against the foot of the bed, and looked around the room. Three days. That was too long to wait to clean up. I couldn't live in a place so filthy. I groaned at the thought that passed through my head. I would have to go out to town and buy some cleaning supplies, and walk them back. I fell onto my side as I leaned to the right.

In front of my face I saw my carry on bag and decided to get my cell phone and iPod. If I was going anywhere, I wasn't going to leave without them. And my wallet. I grabbed the three things, placed them in my jacket's pocket – I forgot I had been wearing it. I turned off my laptop and tucked it under the bed. It was the only hiding spot I could think of at the moment.

With a grunt, I stopped up and stretched. I started walking back down the stairs and towards the front door. I had already opened up the door when the sun hit something to my right and it glinted brightly in the corner of my eye. I turned my head and saw it was the key from earlier. With a roll of my eyes, I grabbed it, walked out of the house, and locked up. But I doubted that that would stop anyone. That is, if they wanted to steal from my house. What person in their right mind would try to rob a house that looked like it was deserted?

Knocking me out of my thoughts, a brisk wind raced around me causing me to shiver. I zipped up my jacket, and jammed my hands into my pockets. They would have stayed there if I hadn't begun to mess with my phone. Pulling it out, I turned it on and my eyes widened. Twenty-six new messages? Damn. I think my phone was about to explode, so I began to check them. They were from my best friends and most of them were on the lines of, 'I'm sorry to hear about ur mom, I'm here for u', to, 'Girl, you alright?' Their concern brought a small smile to my face, and I responded to a few.

After I deleted a few messages I looked at the date on my phone. It was July 18th. My birthday was exactly a week ago. I completely forgot about it. I forgot my own birthday. For the second time today I laughed. That's rather… sad. Not depressing, crying over something sad, but a little pathetic. I shook my head and continued walking towards the lights of the city I had seen earlier.

Suddenly, my hand began to vibrate and I realized it was because someone had texted me. I checked it, it was Karen. I smiled lightly as we began to carry on a little conversation. A small drop of normality in my hectic life. She asked me a few things, like where I live, what's my Uncle like – which I corrected her, he's my mom's brother, I was trying to distance myself as much as possible from Rookery – things like that. I answered her to the best of my ability.

Looking around from my current position, I found myself on a street with people moving every which way. I decided to ignore Karen's text messages for the time being as I looked for a store that looked like it would sell cleaning supplies. I had no idea where to go. So, I asked a woman who was about to pass me.

"There is a little discount store around the corner, missy, I hope it helps," her accent not as thick as Rookery's, so I had reason to believe she might not have lived here her whole life.

I smiled, "Thank you," I stated before turning towards the way she pointed out.

With my hands in my pockets, I turned the corner and instantly found the store she was talking about. It was like a K-Mart. A small smile tugged on the corners of my lips as I walked in. I quickly started walking down different isles with a basket resting in the crook of my elbow. Every now and then I pulled something off the shelf. Must of the basket was filled with Windex, Pledge, toilet bowl cleaner, dish soap, sponges, a small bottle of both conditioner and shampoo, a small bar of soap – the three looking like you would find them in a hotel as little compliments – some disinfectant wipes, rags, and a few boxes of Swifer wipes. Now I just needed the Swifer. Also, in my basket, were a bag of chips, instant ramen, a six pack of Dr. Pepper, and some chocolate. Just because I had order food online, and I was more than likely going out to eat every morning and evening for food until then, didn't mean I couldn't snack. Scanning the aisles once more, I finally found a Swifer and picked it off the rack.

I went up front and had my things rang up. I used my debit card this time for it; I preferred to use it to my credit card, because let's say I fail to pay it off completely before the end of the month, I had interest to pay, and my debit card allowed me not to overspend. The woman behind the counter handed me my things in three plastic bags; the Swifer was included in the bags because it wasn't put together yet. Mumbling a thanks to the woman, I walked out of the store, the three bags dug into the skin of my left hand, but it was a pain I didn't mind. I slowly made my way… home, taking my sweet time looking around the streets, trying to memorize where some places to eat where. I would be back in an hour or two for dinner.

My stomach disagreed with that idea and grumbled unhappily. I laid my right hand on my covered stomach and stopped my walk back to the house. I might as well eat now, save myself a trip I suppose. I walked the streets a little longer as I took in other restaurants. I really wasn't in the mood to try different moods. I wanted something I was used to. Something normal for me. Then, I saw it. I never knew how much I would love to see those golden arches. It was a McDonalds. I laughed at it. Normal. I didn't normally eat here, but it was food that I knew what it was.

Going inside, I ordered two cheeseburgers, a thing of medium fries, and a medium Dr. Pepper – yes I like Dr. Pepper. I sat at a corner high top and eat my food while minding my own business. I didn't want to bother anyone, and I didn't want anyone to bother me. I finished my food in a timely manner for that very reason. Picking up my trash, I threw it away and continued on my way… home. Where a truck load of cleaning awaited me.

I sighed as I reached the house. With my free hand, I fished out the key from my pocket and unlocked the house. In the morning, it wasn't all too welcoming, but at night it was worse. It almost seemed to scream at me to leave and never return. Kind of like a haunted house. No lights were on – because I didn't think I would be gone so long – and the air spelled like decay. I took a deep breath through my mouth in hopes not to smell the rotting smell as much.

I brought the cleaning supplies straight to my room, that's where I would start. I pushed open my door and placed the bags on the rug. I took off my jacket and my button down shirt, and was about to pull my cami over my head so I could change into a loose fit tank top, but I stopped. Feeling like I was being watched, I walked over to the windows, made sure they were closed and lock, then pulled the curtains close. I felt a little better and proceeded in pulling off my cami. This left me standing only in a beige bra and my jeans. Bending down, I unzipped one of my suit cases and found a gray tank top that was a little too big. Once that was on, I rummaged through my suitcase and found a pair of black sweats. I switched my jeans out for them. I placed my shoes back on, mainly because I didn't know what kind of nails or whatnot might be sticking out.

Now in comfortable clothes, I fished out my iPod from my jacket, and placed the giant classic headphones – the ones that covered your whole ear – and turned it on. As I listened to music I began to clean. The whole time, I had this odd feeling, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end, that I was being watched.

**Okay, there it is. Hope you enjoy. I know, it was horribly slow, but it's not like I can jump so drastically, and I don't really like to have major time skips in the middle of the chapter. But the next chapter is gonna jump, but it will work better. It will be Rebekah's second week in school, and this is where she meets Tony. **

**Special thanks for reviewing goes to:**

**Mads - Oh, I'm sorry you didn't get my first chapter, but thanks. I've just been so wrapped up with this idea that I have to get it down as soon as possible.**

**Vic90 - I will never stop writing if I can help it XD I understand you perfectly. I would love to be able to discuss ideas for the next few chapters, somewhat privately. I don't want to give it away to everyone. XD**

**Rosewhip889 - Why thank, I try to keep them interesting, but like in this chapter, that can't always be the case.**

**Masscare kitten - Thanks. I'm trying to write longer chapters, it just seems like a good place to end every time though.**

**Fanfictionwriter28 - Thanks! That means a lot, and I won't stop writing.**

**YourItalianSister - Thanks girl. And I'm sorry but your 'kinky' moment isn't coming up for quite some time.**

**bluelover - Thanks, and I know. I wanted something different, I wanted my story to be unique and stick out.**


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